I can't get no satisfaction

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  FriedEgg, July 26^nd , 20¹³ .  Only five more shopping months till Boxing Day.

So here’s this, from the WayBack Machine:

Happy Birthday to Jules, who turns twenty-four today, in Mississippi.  (When YOU type “Mississippi”, do YOU say “em-eye-ess-ess-eye-ess-ess-eye-pee-pee-eye” too?  And then, do YOU laugh because, heh, YOU said “pee-pee”?)

(Just Us?  Alrighty, then.)

(We’re going to take those chirping crickets to mean that YOU don’t type Mississippi.  (Heh…We did it again.)  You should try it…it’s fun.)

We just got a text with Our call time for the murder mystery this evening, complete with the information that We are having NINETY-FIVE guests!  Now, while We are thrilled at Our tip prospects, We do just have to say, “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU PEOPLE?”  On what promises to be the nicest weekend of the summer so far downa shore, you’re gonna sit in a windowless room watching dinner theatre and eating minestrone?  Remind Us not to agree to DATE any of you.

Yeah, like anyone would date Us.

(Heh…not only did We say “pee-pee”, We said “pee-pee eye”.)

(We kill Us.)

Meanwhile, after yesterday’s coffee tribulations, you will be pleased to hear that We are drinking actual coffee today.  We know you were concerned.

And here is the HorrorScope:

Okay, it is Mick Jagger’s SEVENTIETH birthday.  For all those old farts who said rock and roll wouldn’t last.  Also, it is Helen Mirren’s birthday.  Making Us imagine, of course, Helen Mirren in The Mick Jagger Story. As Mick Jagger, natch.  Because if anyone could do it, Helen Mirren could.

Clearly, there is precious little actual content in here today.  Moving on…

This is not a good time to take on new work — or anything else new, for that matter!  (Well, alrighty, then!)

Even if that hottie asks you out, (Yeah.  THAT could happen.)

defer it for at least one more night, (De fur is in de moth balls because it is de summer.)

(Is it difficult to hold the moth’s little legs apart?)

so you can handle the consequences.  (But We cannot handle the truth.)

After doing your best to hold a grudge — something you’ve never been any good at  (Sorry…have We met?)

— a peaceful wave washes you away from it, even if a friend did something that feels like absolute treason to you.   (How would We know?  Who sees anybody?)

You’ll wake up feeling compassionate, and ready, finally, perhaps, to accept the apology. (Ooops…what if We accidentally accepted the apocalypse?)

Still, while forgiving is a good idea, don’t feel bad if you’re not quite able to forget. (Forget what?)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

 It’s called wisdom, (What is?)

and it comes with experience.  (What does?)

(We used to be into S&M, necrophilia, and bestiality, but then We realized We were just beating a dead horse.)

You’re probably a little turned off by commitment for now, even if it’s just making short-term plans.   (We have three murder mysteries in the next four days.  If We retain any marbles at the end of it, it will be a miracle.)

Go with your instincts (Which are aptly named, because they stink.)

and keep your agenda low-key. (Or loco.  One of those.)

Alone may be the way to go for you.  (You could have saved yourself a lot of blathering if you’d just started off with this bit, Kelli.  Of course, since it sounds like a fortune cookie, you’ll wanna end it with “in bed”.  Guess what?  Still works.)

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

(Your Your-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com)

(Meanwhile, why We didn’t think of this sooner, We’ve got no idea, but better laid than necking, as they say (and how right they are!).  For real live actual ass(tromlaogical) ho(roscopular) advice, please visit Our good friend AstroGeek here:  http://agskylab.blogspot.com/.  Our Own epistular musings are of use to you only insofar as making you feel better by comparison, but he will give you actual pertinent advice for your very own lives, based on upon the positions and transitations of all manner of planets, planetoids, asteroids, Altoids™, hemorrhoids, and other heavenly flotsam, jetsam, and Jetsons.  Plus, he knows all about Uranus!)

*****************************************************************************

Starzina Starfish-Browne was born in the wagon of a traveling show…well, okay, not really. She was actually born in Lowake, Texas, the daughter of a beautician and either a garage mechanic or the town mailman. At sixteen, she escaped her humble beginnings by running off with Doctor Browne’s Traveling Medicine Show and, more to the point, Doctor Browne. Following the dissolution of this unfortunate entanglement (Doctor Browne was a Virgo and Starzina is, of course, an Aries), which produced a daughter, Starzina entered a contest in Soap Opera Digest and won a scholarship to Oxford (yes, in ENGLAND), where she earned her doctorate in the newly-created dual major of Astrology and Human Sexuality. There is absolutely NO TRUTH to the rumor that Starzina’s second daughter has Royal blood, despite tabloid photographs allegedly depicting her cavorting on the Italian Riviera with Princes William and Harry, clad only in Prussian helmets and armbands of questionable taste. Starzina currently resides with her daughters in Philadelphia, the City That Loves You (On Your) Back, where she enjoys Double Coupon Day at the local SuperCruise and “encouraging” the coxswain of the Penn rowing team.

                                                                                                                                     

I love the java jive and it loves me

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  ThurstonHowellTheThursday, July 25^st , 2013.   Only five more shopping months till Christmas, people.  You’re welcome.

So here’s this, from the WayBack Machine:

Happy Birthday to Joseph, who turns twenty-four today, and also to Eric (no, not THAT Eric), who also turns twenty-four today, and additionally too to Michael, who additionally too turns twenty-four today.  And they all do it right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles, thus sparing Us any geographological complexications, for which We are externally grateful.

(That is not, in case you were wondering, a typo. “Externally grateful” is when you’re only PRETENDING to be eternally grateful.  On the outside.)

We, meanwhile, are currently not even externally grateful.  Because We forgot to buy coffee on yesterday’s Ack-A-Me foray, We are drinking some hideous flavored coffee We’ve had in the freezer since We bought it on sale.  It is called “Pumpkin Spice”, and it tastes for all the world like a piece of raw ginger that’s been sitting in a jack-o-lantern on the front porch of an abandoned house since 1987, after seven generations of feral cats have used said jack-o-lantern as a litter box.

(That, Gentle Readers, is called “painting a werd pixture”.)

Now, We DO have some whole coffee beans, also in Our freezer.  But We are generally only capable of finding the coffee grinder and grinding said beans AFTER We have already had some coffee, so you can see Our conundrum.  (We KNEW this bathrobe was too short…Our conundrum is sticking out. (You’re picturing that now, aren’t you?  Perverts.))

All of which is to say that We imagine you all are at least externally grateful not to be Us at the moment.

We had an entire dream We were going to share with you as well, but this General Foods International Coffee™ moment has taken it all out of Us.  Plus, We have to go and ableautify, as We must later pay a visit to TheCutestDentistInTheWholeWideWorld.

(“Ableautify” is, of course, a neologism (OMG, she used the N word!  (Also, she said “gism”.)) meaning “to perform ablutions in order to become  more beautiful”.  Use it three times in a sentence, and it’s yours.  Or Beetlejuice will show up.  One of those.)

Now, it might seem, to the Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! casual observer (i.e., naked skimmer) that We bandy the phrase “The CutestFill-In-The-BlankInTheWholeWideWorld” about quite willy, nilly, and willy-nilly.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  We have known TheCutestBoyInTheWholeWideWorld (TCBITWWW) since before these horoscopes began, and his title has been verified by a completely independent source (hi, Patrick! (no, John, not YOUR Patrick.)).  We have had TheCutestDentistInTheWholeWideWorld for even longer than that.  And We have only recently acquired TheCutestMailmanInTheWholeWideWorld, EspeciallyInASweatyTeeShirtDuringAHeatWave. And, while We did for a brief period of time, employ TheCutestContractorInTheWholeWideWorld, We would not pretend to have, say, TheCutestPlumberInTheWholeWideWorld, or TheCutestRooferInTheWholeWideWorld, even though We have both of those things (a plumber and a roofer, that is), and are very happy with their work.

We certainly hope that cleared things up for you.

In other news, this just in, from God, on Twitter: “The requests I get to bless things or damn things exactly cancel each other out so I end up doing diddly-squat.”

Also, it will surprise no one that, in response to this week’s Royal Birth (not to mention The Royal Afterbirth), Our “He’s A Very Nice Prince” e-pissode, with its pixture of Prince William in a Speedo™, is trending again.  Here is the link, to save you the trouble of hunting it down your own self: http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2012/06/hes-very-nice-prince.html

Meanwhile, does it distress you, as it distresses Us, that if you search “Prince William in a Speedo™”, you find actual pictures of Prince William in a Speedo™, but if you search “Prince Harry in a Speedo™”, you don’t find any such thing?

And here is the HorrorScope:

Happy Estelle Getty’s birthday!

You’ve got something real staring you in the face (It’s just a picture of Prince William in a Speedo™.)

 — and it may be tempting to turn away. (Yeah, okay, whatever.)

You’ve got some good energy, for sure, but if you aren’t up to this challenge, call in the reinforcements.   (Mmm-hmm.  Because these “reinforcements” are likely to show up.  Maybe they’ll go to the Ack-A-Me and buy Us coffee.)

 If people came with warning labels, yours would say something like ‘Danger. Do not test me.’  (Actually, it would say “You’ve already heard about the rotting-ginger-in-the-decayed-pumpkin-with-feral-cat-poop coffee; did We mention that We had sauerkraut for dinner last night?”)

Heaven help anyone who decides that it might be fun to see just how far you can be verbally pushed, (People have very strange ideas of fun.)

because right about now, it won’t be very far at all. (Fart.)

Of course, as fiery as you are, (Heh.  Was that another fart joke?)

this situation isn’t all that rare, so the next best thing would be to have a t-shirt made up for occasions such as this.  (A t-shirt, you say?  What, Our “Tuesday” panties aren’t good enough?)

You need a plan, so map out your schedule over the next few days and be sure to stick to it. (We have three murder mysteries over the next few days.  Yes, indeedy, ladies and gerbils, a Very Special Monday Performance.  One can only IMAGINE for whom.)

You’ll be glad you did when you’re facing many other, not-so-welcome invitations.  (Who let all those chirping crickets in here?)

 It’s easier to say no!  (Than what?)

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

(Your Your-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com)

(Meanwhile, why We didn’t think of this sooner, We’ve got no idea, but better laid than necking, as they say (and how right they are!).  For real live actual ass(tromlaogical) ho(roscopular) advice, please visit Our good friend AstroGeek here:  http://agskylab.blogspot.com/.  Our Own epistular musings are of use to you only insofar as making you feel better by comparison, but he will give you actual pertinent advice for your very own lives, based on upon the positions and transitations of all manner of planets, planetoids, asteroids, Altoids™, hemorrhoids, and other heavenly flotsam, jetsam, and Jetsons.  Plus, he knows all about Uranus!)

*****************************************************************************

Starzina Starfish-Browne was born in the wagon of a traveling show…well, okay, not really. She was actually born in Lowake, Texas, the daughter of a beautician and either a garage mechanic or the town mailman. At sixteen, she escaped her humble beginnings by running off with Doctor Browne’s Traveling Medicine Show and, more to the point, Doctor Browne. Following the dissolution of this unfortunate entanglement (Doctor Browne was a Virgo and Starzina is, of course, an Aries), which produced a daughter, Starzina entered a contest in Soap Opera Digest and won a scholarship to Oxford (yes, in ENGLAND), where she earned her doctorate in the newly-created dual major of Astrology and Human Sexuality. There is absolutely NO TRUTH to the rumor that Starzina’s second daughter has Royal blood, despite tabloid photographs allegedly depicting her cavorting on the Italian Riviera with Princes William and Harry, clad only in Prussian helmets and armbands of questionable taste. Starzina currently resides with her daughters in Philadelphia, the City That Loves You (On Your) Back, where she enjoys Double Coupon Day at the local SuperCruise and “encouraging” the coxswain of the Penn rowing team.